


Catfish

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Bottom Sam, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, Fire play, Ice Play, Kinky Dean, Love Confessions, M/M, Manhandling, Namely kinks, Prank Wars, Pretty rough sex, Sam is discovering things, Sexting, Temperature Play, Texting, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6777847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean have been pranking each other since they were kids. It was sort of a routine, though it has been tamped down by all the hunting and serious business, boss fights. Nevertheless, they were at it again, another war breaking out... However this one took a rather interesting and different turn when Sam, wronged little brother in a grown man's body, decided to pull the most infamous pranks of them all: Catfishing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step One- Going Undercover

 

Hell hath no fury like a man whose favorite books have been destroyed.

Or something like that.

He knew it would happen. Well, knew that something was going to happen after what he pulled yesterday, but this? He certainly did not expect this.

Sam and Dean have been having a prank war, again. It started from a simple mistake. Sam accidentally threw out his big brother’s leftover pie, but he really wasn’t the one to blame, as the thing’s been there for nearly a week now, and he was pretty sure he actually saved the man from a few days of nasty diarrhea. Dean, on the other hand, did not see it that way at all, and the next day when Sam sat down for breakfast, he couldn’t quite get up afterward from the glue keeping his ass stuck to the chair.

After that, things escalated pretty quickly. They pranked each other every day, sometimes twice, even three times per day, the pranks ranging from stupid and childish, to far-fetched and with lasting effects. It has been going on for one week now, and after Dean snuck into his room, cut off a piece of his hair and super-glued it above his lips, Sam got so pissed he made the mistake of attacking his brother’s baby.

When he scratched the side of the Impala with a screwdriver, he didn’t think of the consequences, at least not all of them. Imagining Dean’s shocked frustration made him smile like a kid who knew he was doing something bad, his mischievous grin only widening as he scraped at the glossy black paint until he had “I am an idiot” written on the side of the car in big, ragged letters.

Hearing his brother scream his name from the garage, sounding as if he was going to have a heart attack, was one of the most hilarious things ever, and Sam knew he didn’t regret his decision to ruin the car.

At least, he thought he didn’t.

Today, as he walked into the bathroom to take a piss, he didn’t get further than four steps. Books, his all time favorites which he’s been planning on reading for so long, were floating in the tub full of water, completely soaked. They were all immersed in water, some sitting at the bottom of the tub while others stayed on the surface, surrounded by ripped out pages that tore when Sam lifted one of them out of the water, a piece of paper staying between his fingers while the rest plopped back into the tub, too frail and heavy with water.

He stood there for a long while, eyes wide and unbelieving, watching the sight that belonged to one of his nightmares instead of reality, but was quick to snap out of his daze when he heard the amused chuckle coming from his left.

Head whipping around, his eyes instantly narrowed when he spotted Dean. He stood leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest and smirk stretching his lips as he watched Sam, who was having a hard time staying in place. “I see you found our new aquarium. How do you like the fishes? Did I choose well?”

“You asshole,” he spat, furrowing his brow as he pointed at the drenched remains of his books. “They were all original versions. Some even had autographs from the author, authors that are long dead!”

“Oops.” Dean shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess payback’s still a bitch.”

“Dean, you ruined my books! I only scratched the car, didn’t render it completely unusable!” Sam countered, nostrils flaring as his frown turned into a glower.

His brother snorted. “Same thing. You go for something close to my heart, it’s obvious I’ll do the same. Deal with it.”

“But not to this extent,” Sam growled, but his brother wasn’t listening anymore, just waving a hand dismissively and pushing himself away from the wooden frame.

“Aw, go and sulk in another corner, Samantha,” he sneered, raising an eyebrow at the other. “But if you’re that butthurt, why don’t you give up? Accept your defeat, and admit that I’m the Prank King.”

Sam shook his head incredulously, rolling his eyes. “You know what? I _will_ stop. I will take the mature approach and put an end to this before things get even more out of hand.”

“You mean you’re gonna chicken out, too afraid to find out what I’d do next,” Dean corrected him mockingly, chuckling when Sam shot him a glare. “No, that’s fine. I can completely understand.”

He was pretty sure his eyelid twitched. “Get out,” he barked lowly.

Dean raised his hands in mock surrender and backed away. “As you wish. Loser.”

He both saw and heard his brother laugh before the annoying, smug sound got muffled as Sam slammed the door shut, then turned around and wandered back to the tub, beginning to fish his poor books out with a heavy heart.

His brother was going to pay for this. He knew he said he was going to stop, and he might have meant it, a bit. Sam was going to stop with the obvious pranks. He needed something better to avenge his books, something cunning and sneaky, so that Dean wouldn’t realize he was being toyed with until the very last moment. He wanted to prolong the man’s misery, make a fool out of him, and for that, he needed him unsuspecting, with his guard down.

It was time to be the little brother, but with a hunter’s efficiency and mercilessness.

**—**

 

It took him five days to come up with the perfect revenge plan.

There were many things Dean liked doing. Eating, driving around in the Impala, watching porn or drinking, cleaning the guns to clear his mind, and watching movies, even old cartoons. So many ways to get back at him, so many possibilities, all of which turned into useless ideas when he noticed something while they were out on a job.

His brother was on a dating website.

Sam was surprised to find something like that out, unable to stifle his laugh when he read aloud Dean’s screen name, which was “Impala67”. It was pretty unbelievable, ridiculous even, but it seemed to be working for his brother, as he already had one woman ready to hook up with.

After that, the knowledge kept nagging him for days, along with a devious plan that was already forming in his brain without his knowledge, and before he realized, he was sitting on his bed, door to his room locked just in case, and staring at his phone with a slight feeling of unease.

Dean would never expect it. He thought long and hard about it, and came to the conclusion that this was most probably the best chance he’d get at pranking his brother. The plan was easy enough—create a fake profile, pretend to be a woman who’s interested in Dean, set up a meeting, then reveal his true identity. So basically, he was going to catfish his brother.

Perfect.

He did have to wonder if he was going a bit too far with this one, though, but then quickly reminded himself that all was fair in love and prank wars. Still, sitting on his bed and staring at the screen of his phone, Sam was beginning to have second thoughts. He had never been on a dating website and knew crap about them, and he also wasn’t sure how hard it’ll be to fool Dean, trick him into believing that Sam was a woman. Ah well, he’ll just cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“Alright, let’s do this,” he mumbled to himself, finding the website he remembered his brother was on fairly quickly.

Next, he needed a name. Two names, actually; one for his username and one for his real-fake name. Wanting to be a bit daring, he chose “Samantha Upton” as his female alter ego, a sly smile crossing his face as he typed in the name. His unease was slowly fading and vanishing, replaced by the excitement of what he was doing, of what he was going to do. After some more thinking, he settled on the screen name “SweetDevil”, knowing it sounded totally cheesy, but he could just see his brother being into it. For his age, he picked 33. Location was Austin, Texas. He was seeking men, his status was never married; however when he got to the “about” part, he wasn’t quite sure what to write.

He needed something that would make Dean interested. What kind of women did his brother like, in the first place? He guessed probably the mature, gorgeous ones, that didn’t mind getting a bit frisky and naughty at times.

Sighing, he reluctantly typed in “Looking for a good time with men who know what they’re doing. One night you’ll never forget. If you think you’ve got what it takes, message me,” then shook his head, an embarrassed laugh forcing its way out of him.

God, what was he doing?

No, he couldn’t back out now. He had to think of his poor books, may they rest in peace. He had to avenge them, no matter how uncomfortable he felt as he saved the information and created his dating profile.

Then felt even worse when he realized he needed to upload a picture.

There was a little question mark inside a light blue cube at the top of his profile, Sam remembering with dread that, yeah, dating sites usually required the user to post a picture of themselves. Crap, he forgot about that.

Frowning at his phone, he tried to come up with something, but honestly doubted he could just find a random girl who’d let him take her picture. He could always steal one from the internet, that much was true, and that would be easier, too, but the only problem with that was that it would raise the possibility of Dean—or maybe even someone else on the site—finding out he was fake. And he couldn’t have that. Maybe he could take a picture of himself? Just a part of his body, something that wasn’t too hairy or masculine, and definitely not his face. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea, if only he had a body part that didn’t scream “I am a male”, which he did not have. Or maybe…

His waist was pretty slim. Sam has noticed it many times before, during showers or when he looked at himself in the mirror. However he couldn’t just take a picture of his waist, as that was not only weird, but still too risky. Anybody looking at a picture of his damn waist would be able to guess that he was a guy, so he needed something more. Something that would convince anyone he wasn’t who he was.

He pocketed his phone and exited his room, trying not to think about what he was doing as he snuck into the garage and got into the car, then drove to the shopping center he knew wasn’t too far from the woods where the bunker was hidden behind a swarm of trees.

When he got back, his whole face was a deep red, but thankfully Dean didn’t even realize he was gone, so he didn’t have to come up with a fabricated explanation as he speed-walked back to his room with a plastic bag in his hand. Once inside, he let out a deep breath he’s been holding in, before walking to his bed and pouring the bag’s contents onto the blanket.

A loose, short pink skirt, and a tight, white blouse. Buying them made him feel like some angsty teenager shopping for a pack of condoms, and even though the cashier seemed to believe him when he said he was just buying birthday presents for his girlfriend, he himself knew he was lying, and that was enough to have him flooring the gas pedal.

He reluctantly got out of his clothes and pulled the ones he bought on, feeling a bit—no, scratch that, very—odd standing around in a skirt, but this was essential for his plan to work, so he swallowed his pride and channeled his inner female as he took some pictures. They came out better than expected, showing his waist and a bit of his hip from the side, Sam posing in a way that no suspicious tent could be seen around the front of the skirt. He then picked out the best picture, added a nice little filter to make it even more alluring, before finally posting it.

He did it. He created the profile. Now all he had to do was write to his brother, and see where it would go from there.

Getting out of the female clothes and hiding them at the very bottom of his drawers, Sam put his normal clothes back on, before flopping down on the bed. He lay down, bracing himself as he took a few deep breaths and searched for Dean’s profile, finding it pretty soon, then clicked on “Options”, and “Send a message”.

His thumbs hovered over the phone, hesitant. This was it. He could still back out now, think of another way to get back to his brother. But why should he? Dean deserved it, deserved this, and Sam couldn’t let his nervousness stop himself. He already embarked on this journey, and honestly, he was kind of curious how his brother would behave while chatting with him. Well, with Samantha.

So, with his resolve strengthened, he thought about a good conversation starter. Should he be bold? No, he can’t move things too fast, ask to meet up right away. That would be too risky. Maybe a simple greeting would suffice. What would he write in a situation like this? Or more importantly, what would a woman write? He was over-thinking this, he realized, so in the end, he decided to just go with something neutral and friendly, quickly writing it down and pressing send before he could’ve changed his mind.

**“Hey, I saw your profile and you caught my interest. Also, nice car.”**

He reread the message, and nodded to himself. Mentioning the Impala was a nice touch, he had to admit, something that would hopefully help him gain Dean’s trust easier and get the conversation going. But that was it for now. He did his part, put out the bait, and it was up to his brother if he was going to take it or not.

And for Sam’s entertainment, he really hoped that he would.

 


	2. Step Two- Earning the Target's Trust

 

Not more than an hour passed before he got a notification.

Sam had put his phone on silent, just in case, so he didn’t notice he got an answer until he checked the device while he was in the library, surfing the web for possible cases while Dean was making them dinner in the kitchen. Another burger, the same as yesterday, but Sam wasn’t going to complain as while he wasn’t a big fan of that sort of food, his brother could whip up one mean burger, the mere thought of it making him hungry.

Anyway, he was in the middle of scrolling through some online articles, starting to feel a bit bored, so he absentmindedly reached for his phone, surprised when he saw the red dot with a tiny 1 inside it in the corner of the app he downloaded. Because yes, the site even had a dating app.

Curious but also cautious, needing to play it safe, Sam looked around the room and over his shoulders for any sign of his brother, and when he found none, he opened the app and clicked on “New Messages”.

**“Thanks, it’s a ’67 Chevy Impala. And your profile’s not bad either, shame we can’t see your face.”**

Ah. Right, he knew this face thing was going to be a problem. But it was fine, he could fix it somehow. He needed to fix it.

Making sure that Dean wasn’t about to waltz in and catch him in the act, Sam quickly thought of an answer.

**“That’s on purpose, sweetie. I like to reveal myself later into conversations, when we know each other a bit more. But if you’re worried I’m some old hag, don’t. I am most definitely not.”**

Was that a good explanation? Well, he really hoped it was. He read it over, glancing at Dean’s text, then decided to add something else.

**“And a Chevy, huh? My friend’s got one of those old models too, they’re pretty great.”**

Keep talking about the car. That should distract his brother from the profile picture problem.

Hearing the sound of growing footsteps, Sam swiftly turned off his phone and put it next to the laptop, face down, before going back to reading the articles and pretending he’s been doing so all along.

“Here’s your meal, princess,” Dean said as he placed a plate with the burger on it next to the laptop, then walked around the table and sat down opposite him, picking the chair right in front of Sam.

He rolled his eyes, but thanked his brother nonetheless, a small smile crossing Sam’s face as he pushed the laptop forward to make some space for his food. Pulling the plate with undoubtedly the best burger he’ll ever eat on it closer, he sank his teeth into the juicy treat at the same time as Dean pulled out his phone, making Sam forget he actually needed to chew the food, not just keep it in his mouth. He lowered the burger and put it down, looking around for a napkin which he never found so he was forced to lick his fingers and wipe them on his jeans—cringing inwardly while doing so—before opening up a new tab in the browser. He knew the dating site couldn’t only be accessible on the phone alone, and since the screen was facing away from Dean…

“So, found anything interesting?” he heard his brother ask, Sam’s palms beginning to sweat as he typed in the site’s name.

Flicking his gaze over to his brother, he saw Dean still on his phone. And he was smiling.

Sam cleared his throat. “No, not yet. Only the usual, nothing too suspicious or conspicuously supernatural,” he answered, keeping his voice neutral, then faking a curious look when his brother looked up from the phone. “What are you smiling about?”

The smile on Dean’s face turned into a sly grin as he put his phone away. “Nothin’,” he stated, then just grabbed his burger and began destroying it without another word.

He raised his eyebrows at the man, feigning confusion, before lowering his eyes to the screen. His brother’s devious demeanor was making him kind of anxious of the response he might have gotten, but when he clicked on his inbox and skimmed through the message, he let out a silent sigh of relief.

**“I never thought you were, but I’m glad to hear that. And ‘pretty great’ is an understatement. Trust me, my car’s the best. I could show you so many things it can do, if you want…”**

It was just Dean to start rambling about his “Baby”. What a show off. Sam took another bite of his burger, then typed in an answer, feeling slightly giddy as he did so. He was having a conversation with his brother, as a different person, while aforementioned brother was sitting right in front of him. He had to admit, this was pretty fun.

**“Many things, huh? Sounds interesting. Would you let me drive it?”**

It was a daring question, as he knew that Dean would never let a stranger drive the Impala, not even in their wildest dreams. Samantha did not know that, though.

He also needed to keep up appearances, so when Dean frowned and pulled out his phone after it made a low beeping sound, he asked, “Okay, you’re suspicious. What are you doing?”

“None of your business,” his brother informed, waving a hand at him. “Why don’t you go back to looking for a case for us instead of supervising me?”

Sam snorted. “If you’re that desperate for a case, how about you try helping out too? Because I honestly doubt you’re checking your phone for our next hunt.”

“Yeah, maybe not for our next hunt,” Dean said with a shrug, lips slowly curling into a smirk, “but certainly my hunt.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, already knowing the answer and feeling his heart skip a beat. Yep, it was working. Dean laughed and just shook his head, ending the conversation as he went back to staring at his phone, apparently believing he was some sort of sexual predator. Oh, how wrong he was, and Sam couldn’t wait to crush the man’s ego.

He waited until Dean put his phone on the table—all the while pushing random buttons on the keyboard to appear less suspicious when he’d start answering—before refreshing his inbox and clicking on the new message he got, suppressing his grin.

**“I was thinking more along the lines of showing you how comfortable the backseat can be. Especially for two people.”**

Thankfully, Sam had already swallowed the piece of food he had in his mouth, because he was quite positive he would’ve started choking when he read the message. He wasn’t particularly shocked, he just didn’t expect Dean to be this straightforward. Sure, he didn’t straight-out blurt that he wanted to have sex in the car, but he was already hinting at it, and they’ve barely even started talking. Sam wondered if this was how all dating sites worked, with two people getting right down to business after less than ten messages, or maybe it was just his brother.

Probably just Dean.

Either way, he couldn’t let a little flirting stop him. He was Samantha, a woman who was supposed to be interested in Dean. He needed to play along, no matter how disturbing he realized what he was doing was. But hey, it wasn’t actually him his brother was trying to woo, just some chick ready to party.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel something akin to embarrassment as he typed in his answer after waiting for a safe amount of time.

**“Oh yeah? Sounds like fun.”**

He pressed send, but then frowned. Wasn’t his response a bit too bleak? Maybe he should add something, to keep Dean interested. An idea struck him, and he had to bite down on his lip to stop the mischievous grin that was stubbornly trying to stretch across his face.

**“Hey, how about we play a game? I’m curious of quite a few things about you… Ever heard of something called ‘Never have I ever’?”**

He quickly sent it. No going back. It was a great idea, and maybe he would even find out things he could blackmail his brother with. But at the same time, he might learn something pretty unnerving about the man, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know some of the juicy details of Dean’s sex life. No, he most definitely did not.

They finished their food in silence, his brother merely pocketing his phone when it beeped. A bit impatient and somewhat nervous, but trying not to show it, Sam quickly deleted the history and shut off the laptop, before standing up from the chair and grabbing his own phone.

“Well, no new cases. Maybe we could check in with some other hunters, see if they have something?” he suggested when he saw Dean walking out of the kitchen, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, and his phone in the other.

“Nah, I think we should just…you know, take it easy for today.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Take it easy? Weren’t you all about getting a case only a few minutes ago?”

“What can I say?” Dean chuckled, lowering the phone with a strange glint in his eyes. “I changed my mind.”

“Aha. Whatever,” Sam said, eyes glancing from the phone to his brother. “Don’t do anything weird, okay?”

“Anything weird?” his brother scoffed and took a sip from the bottle, before flashing a toothy smile at the other. “Is that how low you think of me, immediately assuming I’m doing something debauched? Ow, Sammy. Ow.”

Rolling his eyes, he started off toward his room. “Well whatever it is, don’t bother me with it until tomorrow,” he shouted over his shoulder, then made a sound resembling a snort when he heard his brother mutter something involving Sam and getting stuck in Narnia or something.

Once reaching his room, he stepped inside and closed the door with his back, leaning against the hard surface as he took out his phone.

**“Sure, I know the game. A pretty good one to get to know each other a lot more, I like that. Can I start?”**

Perfect.

**“Do go ahead.”**

He hopped on the bed, kicked off his shoes and turned onto his stomach. Placing the phone on the pillow, he grabbed a book to read while he waited for an answer, which came surprisingly fast.

**“Alright. Never have I ever…done it outside. I’ve got 9 fingers left.”**

Sam blinked at the screen, then tried real hard not to imagine his brother having semi-public sex, quickly shaking the horrifying mental image out of his head. Now, should he make his alter ego an adventurous person? Yeah, he should. But maybe not too much.

“10 fingers, and my turn. Never have I ever…”

He stared at the words, at the blinking cursor waiting at the end of the sentence, wondering what he should ask. What he wouldn’t mind knowing about Dean, something that hopefully wouldn’t traumatize him. In the end, he went with something fitting his character, but still behind the line he did not wish to cross.

**“10 fingers, and my turn. Never have I ever been with multiple partners at once. In the same bed. 9 left for me.”**

One minute and two pages of the book he went back to reading later, his phone buzzed.

**“Please, 8 for me. Okay, how about: Never have I ever played with myself while there was someone else in the next room? I’m down to 7.”**

Jesus Christ.

Was he talking about Sam? Dear Lord, he hoped not, but that was probably the case. He couldn’t remember hearing any muffled sounds when he walked past Dean’s room, but who knows what he did in the shower of motel rooms while Sam was lying in bed? Great, he knew this game was going to make him cringe. He needed to go for a safer question next.

**“Shouldn’t the game’s point be not to run out of fingers too quickly? Not that I’m any better. 8 for me too. What about: Never have I ever been paid to have sex? Still 8.”**

He crossed his fingers. As far as he knew, it was the same for Dean.

**“Fine, I’m still 7. But I’ve been offered money once. Anyway, moving on. Never have I ever made a sex tape. 7.”**

Hah. Dean, that pervert. He bet his brother hoped for Samantha to say yes and then show him the tape. Well, sorry Don Juan, but this wasn’t your day.

**“Down to 7, but I’ve already deleted it, if you were curious. Sorry, hon.”**

Sam pressed send, while thinking of the next one. He then let the small, mischievous laugh past his lips as he typed in the message.

**“Never have I ever had sex with the same sex. Still 7.”**

If Dean wanted to play, be a tease, then so be it. Sam could already imagine his brother’s face, disgusted and grimacing from the mere thought of being with a guy. What a shame he couldn’t see it, but oh well, he’d just have to settle for the other’s answer.

**“And here I was looking forward to seeing something fun. Well, anyway, I’ve gotta stay with 7 too… That is, if fantasizing about it doesn’t count. Moving on, never have I ever taken nude photos of myself. 6 now.”**

When Sam read the first part of the answer, he smiled with a small chuckle.

When he read the second part, the smile froze on his face and his eyes widened.

What. Just what? He quickly reread it, but the words didn’t change over the past few seconds he spent staring at the screen like a mentally challenged seal, eyes wide as plates. He never knew. Did Dean swing that way? It seemed so.

But he apparently only thought of it, has never actually went through with it. Still, thinking is already something, so… Since when? And why didn’t he tell Sam? Okay, no, that was a stupid assumption, thinking that his brother would tell him if the fantasized about fucking dudes. Or was it the contrary? Was Dean the one bending over for men in his mind, imagining their hands on him, holding him down?

“Holy crap,” Sam said to his phone, then quickly rubbed his face. This was not the time or place to be thinking about this. Actually, he shouldn’t be thinking about this at all. But when he started talking to his brother, he never expected to find out something so surprising, so of course he was a bit shocked right now. He deserved his few minutes of stunned delirium.

Alright, so Dean was…what? Half straight, half gay-but-not-really? Either way, it shouldn’t matter, right? His brother’s sexual life was none of Sam’s business, after all. The man could go and turn pansexual for all he cared. Good for him. Sam was going to be a good sibling and accept his brother’s choices, no matter how unexpected they were.

He took a deep breath, skillfully ignored the persistent blush on his face, and just answered instead.

**“Nope, it doesn’t. And I’m down to 6 as well. What about: Never have I ever called someone the wrong name while doing it? Fortunately, still 6.”**

His brain wasn’t feeling cooperative, and as he reached for his book, images of Dean kept popping up before his mind’s eyes. Sam groaned in frustration and buried his face in the pillow, closing his eyes and willing himself to stop thinking about whether he could remember his brother checking out dudes at the bars they’ve been to, or not.

**“5… It wasn’t a great experience, I’ve got to tell you. Got kicked right out. How about the shower? Never have I ever had sex in the shower. Got 4 remaining.”**

Sam rubbed his temples, once again needing to remind himself why he was doing this, then started typing.

“ **A complicated, but common way of doing it, so yeah, I’m 5. Never have I ever downloaded porn. What about that? 4 now.”**

For the next ten minutes, they kept talking about various sex positions and other sexual related subjects, and by the time they were done and Sam made up an excuse—something about friends coming over—so he could clear his head, he was a total mess.

He wanted to earn Dean’s trust, wanted the man to think that he had a chance with “Samantha”, but this wasn’t what he expected. He should have known from the beginning that his brother wouldn’t be a shy one, of course. He did know, actually, but…well, them talking about sex for like an hour was not what he had in mind when he came up with this plan. He has learned quite a few things about Dean that he never knew, some more shocking than others, and now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go through with it.

Before, it would have been fun. But now, how was he supposed to reveal himself to a Dean who told him how he imagined doing it with guys? It would make for a very awkward conversation for the both of them, and knowing his brother, he might even get angry at Sam. And he’d understand, because accidentally coming out to your own little brother, who was pretending to be a woman in an online dating website, while they were discussing sex, was not something anyone would receive lightly.

Crap, he screwed up.

Maybe he could delete the account? Or tell Dean he’s not interested after all, stop talking to him? But then again, ending it so abruptly, wouldn’t that be…unfulfilling? He’s put so much effort into this plan, so pulling out now would mean he did it all for nothing. He wanted to get at least _something_ out of this situation, but what?

Ah, whatever. He’ll just delete the account. Forget about this whole thing. Yeah, he’ll do that, it’ll be the first thing he will do as soon as he’d wake up.

But for now, he needed some sleep.

 


	3. Step Three- Learning the Secret

 

Unsurprisingly, Sam did not, as he planned, delete the account.

He wanted to, he really did. He even got as far as going into the “Options” and stare at the “Delete Account” button for a good three minutes. And then he turned his phone off, buried his face in his hands and groaned miserably, but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

Deleting would have been the right thing to do. Not only because Sam has gone too far with this stupid prank, realizing that maybe he should’ve picked another way of getting back at Dean, but also because he would never come clean about this. He was sure of it, promised himself he’d just shut up and take this secret to his grave, so he had no use for the account anymore. Continuing talking to his brother like this, with no intentions of ever revealing himself, would be seriously wrong, not to mention rude.

Which is exactly why he felt incredibly guilty, self-hatred gradually growing inside him, as he lay in the motel bed with his phone in his hands.

Five days have passed. Five goddamn days while he could have quit, could have deleted the app and forget all about this, file it away as a moment of little brotherly idiocy, childish maliciousness. Five whole days he could have stopped responding to Dean’s flirtatious messages, could have acted like a decent human being and stopped leading his brother on like some cruel sadist.

But in those five days, all he did was add fuel to the fire, slowly digging his own grave and going further and further down the path of lies he has embarked on.

They talked about all sorts of things. Past relationships, hobbies, the type of people they like, deal breakers and turn ons. Sam lied, most of the time. He came up with a whole past for his alter ego, making up past experiences or current ones, and feeling rather flustered when they talked about the kind of men “she” liked. He felt even worse when, not knowing what to say, he just described Dean.

It was certainly odd, talking to his brother as a different person. They were flirting, honest-to-god flirting with each other, but instead of horrendously disturbing and simply revolting, it was…fun. Sam hasn’t felt so excited about something in a very long time, and even though he knew what the right thing to do was, what he should do, he still couldn’t bring himself to let go. He just kept going, kept talking, many times finding his face heat up, blushing like some virgin with a stupid grin on his face as he read Dean’s messages, or when he tried to be a bit more daring and complimented his brother in some rather uncivilized ways.

However he still had some limits, as when his brother offered to send him a picture, Sam politely declined. He had seen the man more than enough in his mind already; he really didn’t need an actual image of him.

Because yes, Sam’s been dreaming of some very traumatizing things recently. Ever since Dean told him about his fantasies, it was like his brain decided to laser focus on that one specific piece of information and terrorize him with all sorts of nightmares. They had to be nightmares, because seeing his brother, naked on the bed or a couch while masturbating, could not be considered sweet dreams.

Anyway, Sam’s been having problems with sleeping, and his cool as a cucumber act has been getting harder and harder to maintain as well, what with Dean constantly hinting he wanted to do all sorts of nasty things to his alter ego, and even though he knew his brother thought he was talking to a woman, that it wasn’t Sam he was trying to bed, it sure as hell felt that way. That, of course, then made it pretty difficult to have a normal conversation with Dean without thinking of the stuff he said, and whenever he caught his brother looking at his phone, Sam’s heart always skipped a beat, the younger man wondering if the other was writing to him, and then getting curious, many times getting caught peeking over Dean’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of the phone.

But thankfully, his brother wasn’t suspicious. True, Sam did go to great lengths to keep his real identity hidden, making sure he didn’t only reply when they weren’t together. He sometimes left a few intervals of time between messages, or even answered while Dean was in the room, obviously being very damn sneaky about it.

He preferred being alone, though, so when after today’s hunt his brother declared he was going to get shitfaced and maybe pick up a pretty redhead at the bar, Sam couldn’t have been more glad to have the motel room to himself. And it seemed that Dean stayed true to his word, because not even two hours passed but his phone was buzzing like crazy.

**“Come on, I won’t tell.”**

**“Yeah maybe, but this is a bit…”**

**“Please? I’ll go first, if you want me to.”**

Sam sighed, realizing that he’d have no choice but to accept defeat, as he knew his brother, and was fully aware of how obstinate that idiot could be. Especially when drunk.

They’ve been texting each other for less than ten minutes, and Dean was already being his perverted self, the alcohol only helping with stripping away his morality, turning the man into a shameless beast. Sam had stared at his phone when his brother suggested they should open up a bit more and reveal their secret little kinks, dirty pleasures, obviously refusing and trying to change the subject, but soon found out that drunk Dean seemed hell bent on getting freaky over the phone, and there was no stopping him, no matter what excuse Sam came up with.

So, grudgingly and already knowing that this wouldn’t end well, but also maybe just a little bit curiously, he gave the man the go-ahead.

**“Fine, fascinate me then.”**

He got into a sitting position on the motel bed closest to the door and placed his phone on the mattress, stretching his back. He was nervous, Sam realized. Not the guilty sort of nervousness, though he did feel ashamed of his actions, but the little pull in his stomach and the pounding in his chest was only there because of anticipation. Of excitement.

God, he so deserved the world’s worst little brother award.

After waiting more than a minute, he checked his phone and grumbled, apparently missing Dean’s message because the device was on silent.

**“Alright, you asked for it. One of my kinks is begging. I like it when my partners are on their hands and knees, begging to be taken. How’s that? Pretty hot, right?”**

He couldn’t argue—it was hot.

Sam imagined his brother, now not even trying to stop his brain as his mind went off and created some dirty and inappropriate images. He saw Dean, looming over the women he picked up, ordering them with that deep commanding voice to beg. Beg to be fucked by him, and Dean getting off on the pleas, dark smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced down at his prey, ready to pounce.

A shiver ran down his spine, and Sam took a deep breath, calming himself as he licked his lips. Instead of that, he should be thinking of an answer, making up some lie about his character, but… But, maybe this time, he should play by the rules. After all, Dean had already revealed so much of himself, it would only be fair for Sam to do the same. And it could also prove to be fun, plus he wouldn’t have to feel too embarrassed about it either, because it wasn’t really him confessing his secret desires to Dean.

He had already gone this far in the sick game he created, so kicking it up a notch couldn’t hurt, right?

He thought long and hard, digging up the crap he buried and letting his experimentalist side free as he looked down at the phone in his lap, thumbs hovering over the screen before starting to type.

**“Not bad, not bad. Bet I can raise the bar. Have you ever wondered how hot and cold would contrast during sex? Because I have. One of my little fantasies is playing with ice while my body’s burning hot…”**

As soon as he pressed send, he tossed the phone onto the bed and stood up, covering his mouth as his whole face caught fire, pretty much freaking out as he stared at the phone.

Okay, no, this was fine. He told Dean, but his brother had no idea that Samantha was Sam. Nope, so he was safe, but still, revealing one of the sexual fantasies he’s been thinking of ever since he heard it existed, well, it was a little scary. And he was so very wrong, because telling Dean was real damn far from ‘not embarrassing’. It was the opposite, and Sam was feeling a strange tingle all over his body, something familiar but so alien in this situation, so—

His phone beeped, and he only hesitated until he drew in a sharp inhale and steeled himself, before diving for the device.

**“Oh, that sure does sound interesting. So you like cold…but what about hot? How would playing with something like, let’s say fire while having sex?”**

Sam swallowed thickly, the more reasonable part of his brain telling him to say no, to think about his answer, but now that he opened the door that led to the dark and dangerous domain of his mind, stopping didn’t really seem like an option.

**“Playing with fire? Dangerous…but hot, in many ways. Yeah, I guess I could see myself like that, enjoying some edge play. As long as I don’t get burned, fire is okay in my book.”**

**“You sound more and more fun. What about force? Manhandling? Would you like it, getting held down?”**

Sam’s breathing was accelerating, his imagination taking him to unknown territories as he pictured Dean holding him down. Not some woman, a stranger, but him…

**“Yes. That’s definitely another turn on. Bet you’d do the job nicely, too.”**

**“Damn right I would. I would fuck you into the mattress while keeping my hands tightly around you, pushing you down, making you unable to move. Make you take it.”**

He moaned, now realizing that this has gone way too far. This was it, they were sexting, and Sam was imagining his own brother fucking him nice and rough, taking him with force, and it made every fiber of his body burn with electric flames, hating how he loved it. He felt sick, disgusted by himself, but that didn’t stop him as he bit down his lip and typed with slightly shaking hands.

**“Yeah, sounds great. I’d love that, yes. Keep me still, make me yours. Fuck me like you mean it.”**

This was wrong, this was so bad.

But damn, did it feel right like nothing before.

**“You have no idea. I would do it, give you the best fucking night of your life. I’m not like those other guys you fucked, babe.”**

**“You’re not, huh? Think you’re better than them? Would love you to prove it, prove the kind of monster you can be…”**

**“Hah, a monster? You have no idea how right you are. You think you’re kinky and ready for everything? Just wait until I’m done with you.”**

**“Is that so? Just so you know, I’m a freak. I don’t care about sexuality, I fuck anything that moves. You’d have a wild time with me, sweetie.”**

**“You think you’re bad? I’m so much worse than you, you have no idea. So you better buckle up, because you’ll be in for a ride with me.”**

**“Worse? Right, I doubt you could surprise me, tough guy.”**

**“Oh yeah? What if I told you I jerk off to my own brother, that I’ve been wanting to fuck the living hell out of my little bro for years now? Been dreaming of making him scream, been undressing him with my eyes without him even realizing. Is that shocking enough for you?”**

Yep.

It most definitely was.

Sam just sat on the bed, gaping at his phone. He read Dean’s message over and over again, but the words didn’t change. They remained the same, taunting him and his brain that needed a solid minute to process the information, and when it did finally sink in, the meaning of that message, the phone slipped from his hands and landed on the floor with a dull thud.

Holy flying cow riding on a tricycle.

Did he read it right? Did his brother just admit to jackin’ off to him? Was…was Sam the man he’s been fantasizing about all this time?! And if yes, then did that mean that Dean loved him more than he ever thought?

Whoa, whoa. He was under shock, his head spinning and his mind going a hundred miles per hour, swirling with all sorts of questions. He needed to calm down and think this through, couldn’t act hastily.

He grabbed his phone.

**“Your little brother? Do you just think of him, or is there something else there? Do you love him?”**

Sam has lost it. He must have gone crazy. His heart threatened to jump out of his heaving chest, Sam feeling incredibly nervous as he waited for an answer, for one specific answer, hoping, desperately hoping for something he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t help it.

**“You mean do I just wanna fuck him or more?”**

Sam gulped, holding his breath—

**“Yeah, that.”**

—and then felt his heart burst with a forbidden happiness, eyes welling up and face burning as he whispered, “Oh my god…”

**“I love him.”**

 


	4. Step Four- Mess Up... And Face the Consequences

 

What are you supposed to do when your own big brother is in love with you? When he blatantly admits he jerks off to you, wants to fuck you? You might feel horrified, maybe even betrayed. You might refuse to look at him, tell him what a sick fuck he is and just leave, and nobody would blame you. Gay incest was a big no-no, after all, so you may do all of the above.

What you really shouldn’t do is look at the previously mentioned big brother with yearning eyes, imagine how his lips on yours would feel like, and then get hard from fantasizing about him in the shower, in the bed, and practically every time he looks at you.

Sam did absolutely every single one of the actions listed in the second paragraph, and he didn’t plan on stopping either.

After that revelation, he did a pretty decent job at pretending that what Dean said didn’t affect him one bit, and they kept talking for a while before Sam made up some excuse and stopped the heated conversation, probably leaving his brother hanging. He then took a nice and long shower, while he assessed the situation, wondering if his sudden outburst of relief, of very strange happiness over Dean’s confession wasn’t just a misunderstanding.

Then he masturbated in the shower while thinking of Dean fucking him, so nope, this was no misunderstanding at all.

It was plain and simple, but at the same time, it wasn’t. He wanted Dean. He had the hots for his brother, the past few days slowly making him realize just how fucked up he was in the head, but apparently it seemed that he wasn’t alone with his sick thoughts and feelings, because Dean loved him. He loved him, and Sam knew, deep down in his heart, that he loved him back, but while that thought made him happy and nervous at the same time, it also kind of…frightened him.

What was he supposed to do? He wanted to tell his brother how he felt, wanted to give whatever this could be a try, but how? He certainly couldn’t just go up to the man and say, “Hey, so the girl you’ve been chatting with on that dating site? Yeah, that’s been me the whole time, I’ve been pretending to be a woman while talking to you about sex, and when you confessed you love me, it made me realize I do too, and now I really want you to fuck me.”

Yeah, no.

But then what? Keeping quiet about this for a short while was fine, but he couldn’t drag it out forever. If he wanted to touch his brother—and he did, he really did, no matter how wrong that sounded—then he’d just have to suck it up and come clean. It was unnerving and perturbing, more than a little embarrassing, but he couldn’t let that stop him from experiencing what surely was true love, had to be that, because he’s never felt so alive and dead at the same time.

And steeling his resolve, telling himself that he could do it, would do it, was good and all, very admirable; but maybe it would have been better to keep his confidence for when it was the most important, like sitting across Dean during a convenient moment of silence.

They were having one of those rare bonding moments. They just came back from a hunt gone wrong, Sam needing some beer and Dean something stronger to wash the memories of the previous events down. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn job, easy as ever, so they did not expect the little girl who was being haunted to protect the ghost. It got to her before they could’ve saved her, killed the kid right in front of them, and even though they managed to burn its corpse afterward, it was too late. Dean didn’t take it too well, maybe even worse than Sam, which was a surprise, and after a few drinks once they got back to the bunker, he was opening up.

“One step forward, two steps back. I’d say I should be used to it by now, but no,” the man said with a barely audible strain in his voice, shaking his head as he poured himself another shot and downed it. “It shouldn’t have to be this way. I swear, sometimes I really think we’re cursed.”

Sam took a sip from his bottle of now warm beer, furrowing his brow before putting it down. “You know we are. By the man upstairs and the one downstairs, we’ve always had it rough. But I agree with you,” he said, sighing. “I shouldn’t be like this.”

Dean chuckled, humorless. “I guess we just pulled the short end of the stick. Happy happy days, full of sunshine and people suffering wherever you look. Gotta love this world.”

He watched his brother pour himself another shot. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Sam asked, leaning forward across the table and trying to snatch the bottle and glass from him, but only managed to get a hold of the first, before Dean raised the small shot glass and pulled it away from the other’s reach.

“It’ll be enough when I stop feeling my face,” he stated with a sassy smirk, then threw back his head and drank the transparent liquid, before slamming the empty glass onto the table. “Maybe you should give it a try.”

“I think I’ll stick to beer.” He slumped back into his chair, making sure to take Dean’s drink with himself and ignoring the annoyed glare he received for it. The silence that followed wasn’t absolutely awkward, but it wasn’t too comfortable either, and as Sam gazed around the room, lost in thoughts, he wondered what his brother could be thinking.

He didn’t have to wait long to know exactly what Dean had in his mind, though, as when his eyes shifted toward the man, sneaking a glance at him, he saw his brother ruffling his short hair while looking at his phone. That immediately reminded Sam of his mission, made him notice all the open doors of this situation, full of potential and opportunities to tell the truth. This was a now or never moment, perfect for something like what he was planning to do. They had a talk, no matter how short, were almost, but not quite, tipsy, and now Dean was on his phone. Presumably to talk to someone, maybe Sam’s alter ego or some other woman, anyone rather than Sam, and that made him feel even more desperate.

And maybe jealous.

He eyed his brother, watched as he typed something, feeling the pressure in his chest and building up the courage to speak, to possibly change their relationship forever, and then opened his mouth and—

**_Beep._ **

Sam froze, eyes widening and mouth slowly closing. His brother looked up from the phone, locking eyes with him, an unreadable expression present on his face as he glanced from the other toward where the sound came from, and Sam followed his gaze, lowering his eyes to his pants with sudden dread.

“You got a message?” Dean asked, tone questioning and something else, something suspicious.

Fuck. Fuck fuckedy fuck. He forgot to put his phone on silent. How could he forget? Damn it, his brother was right—they were cursed. Especially Sam.

He swallowed nervously, trying real goddamn hard to look casual and not like someone who was about to have a panic attack as he pulled out his phone. Yep, Dean messaged him. Well, his alter ego.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, thankful for every deity that his voice didn’t waver. Then he wasn’t so glad anymore, because when he looked up from his phone, he was met with his brother’s penetrating gaze, and oh crap, Dean was onto him.

“From who?” He raised an eyebrow, quickly glancing at his own phone before looking back at Sam, eyes glinting with something that made breathing normally a tad bit more difficult for the other. “What does it say?”

“Nothing,” he blurted, then closed his eyes, shouted at himself in his head, cleared his throat, and added, “nothing important. Just a…another hunter replying to something I sent, you know, asking about cases and stuff.”

Wow, was he always this bad at lying?

“I see,” Dean drawled, nodding his head once. He was so not buying Sam’s bullshit, and they both knew it. “Can I see?” he asked innocently as he stood up from his chair, Sam quickly following his example out of panic and nearly knocking the chair back when he jumped to his feet, the sudden movement making his brother smirk.

“It’s uh, it’s not that interesting,” he insisted, wishing the ground would just split open, swallow him and put him out of his misery already. He took a few steps back—really not suspicious, good job—as Dean walked around the table, only stopping when he did too.

The man chuckled, this time the sound filled with wicked mischief. “Come on, just show me. I’m not asking much,” he coaxed, the smirk never leaving his face. “It’s not like you have anything to hide from me, right?”

Okay, Sam wanted to come clean, yep, but Dean really wasn’t making it easy. How was he supposed to do _anything_ with his brother leering at him like some damn hyena?

He faked a smile and a small laugh. “No. No, of course not,” Sam lied, gulping when he noticed Dean raising his phone and beginning to write something.

“Mhm…” His brother kept typing, then looked back at Sam, smirk curling into a grin. Oh no, he wasn’t going to…

**_Beep._ **

Sam’s shoulders slouched, and he really wanted to disappear right about now. He fought the urge, but at this point, it didn’t particularly matter anymore, so after shooting a quick glance at his smug-looking brother, he turned on his phone. And just as he expected, there was another message from Dean, the tiny red dot in the corner of the app having a 2 inside of it.

“So?” he heard his brother’s irritatingly self-satisfied voice ask, Sam reluctantly meeting the other’s gaze. “Aren’t you going to read it?”

He was busted, there was no doubt about that. Sighing, he clicked on the app, bracing himself as he went into his inbox.

**“My mood’s down in the gutters right now. Wanna have some fun?”**

The first message. Not that bad.

**“Bad boy.”**

Second message. Really bad.

He needed to say something, explain himself, and quick. “Um, Dean, this is… I-I wasn’t trying to…”

His brother snorted. “Wasn’t trying to what, Sammy?” he asked, then was closing the distance between them with long strides, the blood draining from Sam’s face as got backed into a wall. “Wasn’t trying to breach my privacy? Did you create that account by accident, talked to me by accident, _Samantha_?” He narrowed his eyes, emphasizing the last word as he put his phone away and planted his hands on either side of the other’s body, trapping him.

Clutching his own phone, Sam cursed himself for many reasons, but mainly because he really wasn’t supposed to get aroused in this situation, but damn it, Dean was too close. “I just wanted to prank you,” he explained, the zero amount of courage in his voice hurting his ears. “I know I might have gone too far… No, I did go too far, and I should have stopped and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, it was selfish of me.”

“Why didn’t you stop?” Dean stepped closer, broad chest sandwiching Sam’s hands between their bodies, the tension so thick in the air he could taste it. “Did you like it? Talking to me like that, me saying all those sorts of things…did you get a kick out of it?”

Dean was staring at him intensely, eyes only leaving his to glide down to his lips, the man licking his own, and Sam could feel himself slowly breaking under his brother’s gaze. “I…” He trailed off as a hand found its way into his hair, fingers raking through the soft curls, and he let out a shaky sigh, giving in. “Yes.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, what a naughty boy you are,” his brother purred and Sam melted, a soft little sound escaping him when Dean took a hold of his hair and pulled him down into a kiss, an actual kiss, his mind instantly going blank as their lips met in a passionate battle which he didn’t even try to win. He let Dean take and claim, opened his mouth and moaned as he let the man slide his tongue inside and discover the warm cavern, his chest tight and heart emitting sparks as he heard his brother’s desperate groan, felt his overjoyed smile against his lips.

Sam let go of the phone, ignored the sound of it hitting the floor as he wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him impossibly closer, curling his fingers in the other’s jacket as they deepened the meaningful kiss. Hands caressing his face and neck, teeth biting and tongue licking, sinful lips kissing, Sam got lost in the onslaught of feelings and sensations, surrendering wholly to his brother.

“Doing something like that behind my back,” Dean whispered once they parted, mouthing the words against the other’s neck before biting him, Sam shivering and gasping at the slight pain, “is something I won’t forgive easily.”

“Sorry,” he breathed, swallowing nervously as Dean stepped back and shot him an alarming, desirous look.

Those mesmerizing emerald eyes, dark with undeniable lust, roamed his body before stilling on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a few ideas on how you could make it up to me,” he said suggestively, before cocking an eyebrow. “You still have the clothes?”

Sam blinked at him, needing a moment to fire up his brain again. “What clothes?”

“Oh, you know,” Dean said with a playful grin, “the ones you wore in your profile picture…”

The realization of what his brother was talking about made his whole face flush in record time, Sam scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but the man standing in front of him as he said, “I um…I do.”

When he looked back, he saw as Dean’s eyes lit up with an excited fire, and, well, he had to admit even he was starting to look forward to whatever his brother had in mind. “Perfect,” Dean declared, before abruptly pulling him into another kiss, this one quick and hard, and so very hot. He then licked his lips and winked. “I’ll go get a few things, and while I’m doing that, I want you to change. That skirt and the blouse—I want you to wear ‘em, and only them. Nothing else,” he ordered, chuckling at Sam’s reaction before heading off toward the kitchen’s direction. “Let’s meet up in my room!”

And then he was gone, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts and, glancing down, a boner.

Well, he supposed that turned out better than expected. He was kind of freaking out at first, but now they even kissed, and hot damn, was it wonderful.

Smiling to himself, he picked up his phone and pocketed it as he walked to his room, then once inside, he rummaged through his bottom drawer until he found the slightly wrinkly clothes. Putting them on once was more than enough, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Dean only wanted him in a freaking skirt to tease him, but since he was pretty curious of his brother’s reaction, Sam only hesitated for a moment before peeling his clothes off. Once standing nude, he wondered if he shouldn’t at least have an underwear on, but then just took a deep breath and pulled the skirt on, after which he put on the white blouse, closing it as much as possible. He felt strangely small in these clothes, and he really didn’t want to leave the room, especially when he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Jesus Christ, what am I doing…” he muttered, feeling like his body’s been doused with molten lava as he watched his reflection’s flushed face, studied the male standing in female clothes, only managing to rip his gaze away from himself when he felt like his heart was going to give in and stop from embarrassment.

He swiftly fixed his hair and took some deep breaths, calming himself, before leaving his room behind to walk to his brother’s door, pausing before it when he noticed it was ajar. Tugging his skirt down so it would cover more skin, Sam gave the white wood a tentative push, opening it to reveal Dean already inside, the man grinning like a Cheshire cat as soon as he noticed him.

His brother got up from where he was sitting on the bed, and Sam averted his eyes as he closed the door behind himself, preparing to hear some mocking remarks.

“Holy shit, you look hot,” Dean said, suddenly right in front of him, hands hovering in the air before settling on Sam’s hips.

“Yeah? I do?” He leaned against the door, once again trapped between something behind his back and Dean, who was burning a hole into his whole body with his electric gaze, Sam becoming a bit fidgety when he felt a pair of eyes staring shamelessly at his crotch.

“Oh yeah,” his brother purred appreciatively, sliding his hands up and down Sam’s sides while locking eyes with him. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

If his face was burning before, he was pretty sure that it was going to melt off at those words, Sam’s heart not taking this situation too well, and then he was gasping, making a rather unmanly sound as Dean grabbed his cock through the pink fabric and squeezed, before leaning close. “So,” he whispered lowly, warm breath ghosting over the other’s ear and sending a rippling shiver down his spine, “you’d like me to manhandle you, huh? What was it you said again?” Dean licked along the outline of his ear and Sam closed his eyes. “’Keep me still’?” He raised his free hand and dug his fingers into the other’s shoulder, pressing him into the door. “’Make me yours’?” He tightened his hold on the other’s growing erection.

“Oh, fuck,” Sam groaned, bumping the back of his head against the door when Dean began stroking him through the skirt, low curses and moans escaping him. He opened his eyes when warmth pressed against his body disappeared, blinking at his brother who pulled away just enough to be able to glance down between them, and when Sam lowered his gaze, he was pretty sure he whimpered.

“Jesus, Sammy,” the man said with lust-filled admiration, a vicious grin spreading across his face as he stopped stroking, and instead massaged the hard flesh between his fingers. “Just look at yourself.”

And Sam did, horrified and turned on by the sight of his erection making a visible tent in the skirt, his cock like some sort of fucking flagpole, hanging almost horizontally from his body. “Dean…” he whispered shamefully, gazing back at his brother and biting down on his bottom lip when he saw the predatory look on the man’s face.

“Impatient?” Dean asked teasingly, flashing a crooked grin at him before wrapping his fingers around Sam’s cock and dragging them up, the younger man hissing at the strange feeling of the fabric against his sensitive skin.

“God, just…” he began, then moaned, “just stop being a damn tease and do something.”

Dean chuckled, a deep and wicked sound. “Sure thing, baby,” he purred and then was stroking the other again, but still only through the skirt, the fast and rough pumping movements of Dean’s hand drawing a whine out of Sam. “How’s that? How does fucking your skirt feel like, Sammy?”

His breath hitched when his brother’s mouth latched onto his neck, licking and sucking, kissing while he kept moving his hand, the friction as the coarse fabric enveloped his dick and slid back and forth slightly painful, but in a way, also delicious. So he moaned, bucked his hips and then stayed still when Dean grabbed his waist, firm grip a warning not to move, and then they were kissing, Sam throwing his arms around the other’s neck as they licked into each other’s mouths, a tiny sound leaving him when his brother growled.

“Bet you’re just about ready to come, and I haven’t even done anything yet,” Dean said with a little sneer as he stepped back and took in the panting form on his little brother, who was pretty much a mess right now, needing to brace himself against the door if he didn’t want to collapse onto the floor. Then his eyes widened and knees trembled lightly as Dean knelt down in front of him, flashing him a nasty smirk before beginning to stroke the other’s thighs.

“Dean? What are you doing?”

“Well, what do you think?” He raised his eyebrows. “I think it’s pretty obvious.”

Sam was tempted to roll his eyes, but he was too horny. “You…have you imagined doing this before?”

“Oh Sammy,” his brother drawled with a devious glint in his eyes, “you have no idea how many times. Fantasized about this, about so many things. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to show you each and every one of them from now on.”

Dean winked at him, then opened his mouth and slipped the clothed head of Sam’s cock past his plump lips, the sight from above making it seem like this was only a dream, was so hot and lewd it couldn’t possibly be reality. Sam whined, hand going to his brother’s head and gripping it, trying to coax Dean into sucking him already, but that tease was just nibbling around the skirt, still refusing to lift it and instead was lapping at the wet fabric, successfully driving him mad.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean please,” Sam begged, remembering that his brother was into that, so he threw away whatever remained of his dignity and begged. “Please, just do it, please…Dean!”

“Hmm, do what?” His brother looked up at him with a sly grin, then kept looking at Sam as he stuck his tongue out and began playing with the tip of the other’s cock.

“Oh my god—” Sam gasped, unable to believe how big of a pervert his brother was, but deep down, he was loving it. “Fuck, just suck me off, please! Want your mouth so bad, Dean I’m begging you, please, please…!”

Chuckling, Dean placed a lingering kiss on his cock, before hiking up the skirt and finally, finally taking him in his mouth.

Needless to say, the wait was worth it.

“Oh, f-fuck!” he moaned, eyes screwing shut as Dean began working on him, swallowing his dick like a fucking vacuum and sucking him hard, the wet and dirty sounds of it going straight to Sam’s cock. He could feel the other’s tongue swirling around him, his brother groping and massaging his balls with one hand while the other was wrapped around the base of his cock, twisting and turning as Dean bobbed his head. Needing to see this, he forced his eyes open and looked down, his mouth falling open and letting a shuddering exhale and some incomprehensible words leave him as he took in the sight. His big brother, Dean on his knees in front of him, with his eyes closed, freckled cheeks red and hollowed as he kept swallowing around Sam’s sizeable length, panting and licking his lips each time he drew back with a wet pop and pumped the other’s cock until he took it in his mouth again, only frowning when he choked a bit. He never stopped, never faltered, only going faster and sucking harder, slowly taking more and more of Sam in his mouth and throat, and then after a few minutes he was deepthroating him, his hand removed from the base and replaced by his lips, this such an obscene look that Sam nearly came right there, especially when Dean’s thick, black eyelashes fluttered and he opened his eyes, looking up at the other with a somewhat smug look in his hypnotizing eyes.

“Feelin’ good yet?” he asked as he pulled away from the other’s cock, giving the tip a teasing lick before standing back up, and without even thinking, Sam grabbed his brother’s face and crushed their lips together, kissing him like a drowning man. He moaned into Dean’s mouth as he returned the kiss with brute force, maneuvering Sam toward the bed all the while sliding his hands along the younger man’s body, slipping it under his blouse and getting to as much skin as possible.

They slowly lowered themselves onto the bed, Sam crawling backward until he was fully on the mattress, panting and trying to catch his breath which wasn’t too easy with Dean’s greedy lips literally stuck to his, his brother refusing to stop kissing him. He just pushed Sam down, kneeling between his legs while kissing him breathless, and just when he thought he was going to suffocate from Dean’s eager kisses, the man finally tore his lips from his wet, kiss-bitten ones, only to attack his neck and throat, nibbling and showering his skin with affection.

“Dean, Dean!” Sam keened, pretty much losing it at this point, desperately bucking his hips and baring his neck for the man to claim, take it all. He whimpered when Dean pinned his hands down and just kept assaulting his neck, then gasped when the strong grip disappeared and his blouse got ripped open, buttons flying everywhere with the force his brother eliminated his clothes with. “Hey, don’t ruin it,” he huffed, then regretted doing so as Dean flashed him a cocky grin.

“Why?” his brother asked, tugging the blouse off and then sending it soaring through the air before splaying his hands across Sam’s chest, making him shiver and inhale deeply. “Were you plannin’ on using it again?”

He blushed. “Well, no, but I paid money for it, so…” he mumbled, averting his eyes sulkily when Dean grinned down at him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll buy you as many girly clothes as you want,” Dean purred mockingly, laughing when he received a punch to his biceps from a flustered Sam, then leaned down and placed a line of kisses along the other’s belly, and suddenly, Sam wasn’t feeling that annoyed anymore. “Now,” his brother said as he removed himself from the bed and crouched down in front of the bedside table, Sam rolling on his side to get a better look at what he was doing, “how about we try out a few things we talked about? A few…specific things.”

Dean raised a bucket and rattled it, a knowing grin crossing his face when Sam’s eyes widened, realization sinking in. “Wait, you…you actually…” he began, but wasn’t quite sure how to continue the sentence, swallowing thickly as he gazed at the bucket filled with what had to be ice cubes, Sam starting to get a little nervous now.

“Why, were you lying when you said you wanted to try it out?” His brother gave him a questioning look, but before Sam could’ve answered, he was already talking. “’Coz I don’t think so. I think you’re just as curious about this as I am. Curious how fast the ice would melt on your hot body…right?”

Ugh, stupid Dean, always needing to be right.

Sighing in defeat, Sam nodded and rolled onto his back as he watched his brother place the bucket on top of the table, then took a deep breath and held it in when Dean picked up an ice cube. It wasn’t too big, around half the size of his palm, and he was already feeling cold just from looking at it, licking his lips in anticipation as his brother rubbed it between his fingers.

“Close your eyes,” Dean told him, and reluctantly, Sam slowly shut his eyes, the anticipation getting even worse now, and each breath he took felt like they lasted a lifetime. Then suddenly, he felt it, his breath hitching and body shivering as the ice was placed in his belly button, pressed down a few times before withdrawn, and then it was sliding all the way up to his left nipple. “How is it…?” he heard Dean’s disembodied, deep voice ask as the melting cube circled around his nipple, which quickly hardened, the hair on his arms standing on end from the feeling.

“Good,” Sam whispered, letting out an uneven exhale. “Yeah, very good.” He turned his head to the side, giving more access to his neck when the ice continued its journey up his body, but before it could’ve reached his jaw, it melted on his burning skin, replaced by Dean’s cold fingers.

He opened his eyes, and the brothers looked at each other, Sam mirroring the other’s smile. “More?” Dean asked.

“Hell yeah,” he stated coyly, flashing a dimpled smile at his brother as he took out another ice cube, this time placing it between his teeth as he crawled back between the other’s legs.

Grinning like a fox, Dean dipped down, starting from Sam’s belly and moving the cube trapped between his teeth, slowly sliding it up on the other’s heaving chest. Sam watched, eyes barely blinking, too fixated on his brother and on the feeling of the cold ice, as it made pleasant goosebumps break out all over his body, little trembles washing over him as Dean swirled the cube around his other nipple, before lowering his mouth onto the hard bud, sucking on and playing with it with his tongue while the ice was still in his mouth, gradually turning to water as the man continued the sweet torture on Sam’s nipple. When he was done, he lapped at the oversensitive bud a few times, before kissing down the other’s body until he was at Sam’s hole. Glancing up from between the younger man’s legs, Dean grinned once before licking the small hole with his cold tongue, Sam’s muscles tensing at the feeling.

“O-Oh…” he sighed, gripping the sheets and opening his mouth as the tongue poked at his entrance. It felt incredibly weird and nasty, Dean licking him there, but that didn’t stop him from spreading his legs further and moaning in delight, the amazing feeling also sending pleasant tingles all across his body. Ignoring the squeamish voice in his head, Sam closed his eyes and enjoyed the way his brother’s tongue teased his hole, fingers digging into his cheeks and spreading them before plunging the now warm flesh inside the small hole, the sensitive nerves there catching fire and drawing a rather lewd moan out of him.

Dean hummed contently, the slight vibrations making Sam arch from the bed and keen for his brother’s tongue, the feeling heavenly as the man ate him out, wiggling the tongue inside him, licking eagerly. A soft whimper left him as Dean began sticking the stiffened flesh in and out of him, tongue-fucking his hole, driving it as deep as possible before pulling out and repeating the process over and over again, until Sam was a mess, writhing on the bed and trying to shamelessly push back on the man’s talented tongue.

Lapping at the spit covered, quivering little hole a few times, Dean then kissed his inner thigh before leaning forward and flashing him a carnal grin. “You really like my tongue in there, don’t you?” he asked teasingly, and Sam couldn’t help but blush at the statement.

“It’s your fault for being so good at this…” he mumbled, a hint of a smile crossing his lips as his brother laughed, then he was stroking the back of the man’s neck as he lowered himself into a kiss. Sam could taste himself on Dean’s tongue, which was kind of odd, but the kiss was too good and addictive for him to care.

When they parted and Dean licked his lips, both of them smiled, warm and happy, and Sam couldn’t understand how he could ever think this might turn out badly, why he ever had doubts about loving his brother so intimately. He caressed the other’s cheek, his macho brother only leaning into the touch for a moment before clearing his throat and reaching back to the bucket, Sam watching as he pulled out another ice cube, then feeling an excited little shiver run down his spine when he saw Dean’s mischievous grin.

“What’s that look for?” he asked maybe just a bit nervously as Dean sat back on his heels and gazed down at him, the look in his mesmerizing green eyes promising all sorts of dirty fun.

“Hm, I’m just thinking,” his brother said, musing with a smirk stuck to his face and while stroking Sam’s thigh, before lowering the ice, “that maybe we should cool you down a bit. You’re burning way too hot for me, baby.” He winked and Sam rolled his eyes, which were swiftly widening as he noticed his brother moving the ice even lower, and when it disappeared from his sight, he gasped, the knowledge of where it was making his heart beat twice as fast.

“Are you gonna…?” Sam asked with an abrupt shiver that ran across his limbs as Dean pressed the cube against his hole, and then he didn’t need an answer, because the ice was slowly slipping inside of him, and he was cursing lowly, tilting his head back at the harsh cold that was spreading through him.

“Good, it’s going in nice and easy,” he heard his brother purr in delight, then saw the man hovering above him, supporting himself on his elbow while his other hand kept pushing the ice deeper inside Sam. “You’re sucking it in so obediently.”

“Oh god, shut up. It’s so cold,” he hissed, a breathy moan getting pushed out of him when Dean curled his finger and began playing with the ice that way slowly melting inside him, circling around and nudging it teasingly, all the while pushing it further in, and just grinning smugly when Sam shuddered violently. “Jesus fuck, stop that.”

“Stop what?” Dean asked innocently, before sliding in another finger, taking the shrinking cube between the digits, then began to finger Sam like that.

Whining miserably, Sam threw his head from side to side while squirming on the bed, body shivering from the fierce cold and the burning pleasure, making his cock pretty confused. “Dean, oh god…” He bucked his hips, glancing at his brother, reaching out toward him, but before he could’ve even touched him, Dean was already leaning in and attacking his neck and chest, biting and kissing all over until the ice melted completely. But even then, he continued turning and thrusting, opening and closing the fingers in Sam, only stopping when the younger man started begging again. “Please, more. Want more of you, not just fingers, Dean please,” Sam pleaded, knowing that should work, and even threw in some puppy eyes, going for the kill as he gazed hopelessly at his brother, and then feeling victorious when Dean growled.

“Sammy,” the man whispered, withdrawing his fingers and capturing the other’s lips in a biting, sloppy kiss, before hurriedly discarding his clothes. Peeling his shirt and pants off, then tugging his socks off as well, Dean sat on the bed in a single pair of underwear in a matter of seconds, eyeing Sam like some meat in a butcher shop.

Suddenly self-conscious under his brother’s penetrative gaze, Sam swallowed nervously and tried to breathe normally, about to start begging again because this waiting was killing him, but then Dean was climbing off the bed and picked up a small towel that Sam couldn’t see as it was behind the bucket.

“Take the skirt off,” he instructed with something deep and dark in his voice, now making the other slightly anxious, but Sam still kicked the pink skirt off as he was told, then watched as his brother moved over to dry his chest with the towel.

Furrowing his brow into a barely visible frown, he looked at Dean. “You look like you’re planning something. Should I be worried?”

The wicked grin that spread across Dean’s face told him that, yeah, he probably should. “No, you’re in good hands. Don’t worry,” he said, caressing Sam’s chest after he threw the towel into the bucket. “I just really want to try something else out before we move on to me making you mine forever.”

Sam chuckled, trying to hide his embarrassment and the persistent blush on his face with playful mockery. “Didn’t know you were into long foreplay,” he sneered teasingly, then gasped and whimpered when Dean pinched his nipple.

“I’m into many things, Sammy. But I think you already knew that,” he said with a suggestive wink, before pulling back and working with something behind the bucket again, while Sam hugged himself, rubbing his arms and really starting to get cold now.

Deciding he didn’t really want to be patient anymore, he sighed. “Dean, I’m freezing. Care to warm me up already…?” he whined, knowing how childish he sounded, but he really wanted Dean. Like really, really did. He wasn’t asking for much, was he? He just wanted his brother to make love to him, to touch and kiss him, and the more he had to wait, the more desperate and brazen he became.

“Oh, I’ll be warming you up real good,” Dean said as he finally turned to him, glancing at something before moving back to the bed.

Sam pushed himself into a sitting position as he watched his brother, who placed the bucket on the floor and took out the now wet towel from it, which he put on the bed, and now that the bucket was out of the way, Sam’s breath got stuck in his throat as he saw what was on the bedside table.

“Is that…?”

“Yep.” Dean nodded, sitting down on the bed and picking up his Zippo lighter, turning it in his hand as he looked at Sam. “Ice wasn’t the only thing you wanted to play with, remember?”

He remembered, but now he was kind of starting regret ever mentioning that. Staring at the lighter in Dean’s hand, he eased away from it when his brother opened it and thumbed the wheel until a tiny orange flame flickered alive, before crawling toward the younger man. “Dean, I… I don’t—”

“Lie back down,” his brother ordered, the hungry flame reflecting in his eyes, haunting and so hypnotizing that Sam slowly lowered himself, lying down even though his body was trembling, this time not from being cold. “Good boy,” Dean purred as he ran a hand up the other’s heaving chest, Sam’s eyes darting from it to the lighter. This was a bad idea. He was an idiot for ever bringing this up, because now he was scared. How could he ever think fire would be fun? After all that happened, after what he had to endure in the Cage, how the hell could he come up with fire play?

He was panting, eyes wide and terrified as he watched the flame, watched as his brother brought it closer to his face, Sam tilting his head back when it paused under his chin, and he could feel the warmth that quickly became hot, too hot, and then he closed his eyes and whimpered.

The fire was gone in the next moment, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Dean closing the lighter and give him a somewhat apologetic, guilty look. “I’m sorry, I…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Sorry. Got carried away. Maybe we shouldn’t try this out after all.”

“It’s fine,” Sam found himself saying, his pulse thrumming in his ears as he reached out and placed a gentle and reassuring hand on his brother’s knee. “I’ll be okay.”

Dean snorted, humorless and sad. “No, I should’ve known this would be too much. It’s alright, we don’t have to do it,” he said, but Sam was sighing and tightening his hold on the other’s knee.

“I trust you. Yeah, I’m a bit scared,” he admitted, features softening as a sheepish smile curled his lips. “But this was my idea. And, well, I don’t really wanna stop just because of what happened in the past. I want to try this, and I want you to do it…because I know that I can trust you. Because I know I’ll be alright with you.”

Studying his face for a long moment, Dean took his hand in his and squeezed. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he assured, smiling when his brother visibly relaxed, then biting down his lip as Dean raised his hand and kissed it.

“Alright.” Dean leaned forward, this time kissing him on his forehead—and it took Sam all of his willpower not to just switch their position and kiss that sweet jerk into oblivion—before taking a hold of the glass with the paint brush in it.

Dean gave the transparent liquid that Sam initially thought was water a stir, then tapped the brush against the glass to get rid of any excess fluid. “Zippo lighter fluid,” he explained, Sam taking a deep breath as the man began drawing a straight line down his chest with the brush, leaving a trail of fuel going from his upper chest and stopping before his belly button. “Don’t worry,” Dean said, putting the glass with the brush back on the table and stroking his shoulder, “I’ll put it out right away.”

“Y-Yeah, okay.” Sam nodded. He glanced down at the cold fluid on his body, a glistening line on his skin, but he knew it wouldn’t stay cold for long, wondering if it would hurt at all, if it would actually burn him.

Well, only one way to find out.

“Calm down. Take nice, long and deep breaths,” Dean told him, holding the lighter with one hand while using the other to caress Sam’s arm, run his fingers through the other’s hair tenderly, continuing the loving touches until the younger man stopped trembling.

When his heart wasn’t beating with the speed of a bullet train, and his breathing returned to more or less normal, Sam licked his dry lips, took one last, slow breath, then braced himself, feeling ready to turn a frightening memory into a pleasant experience, to discover a whole new meaning of going up in flames.

“I’m ready.”

 


	5. Step Five- Screw The Steps, Let's Have Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay for this one!

 

He closed his eyes and focused on anything but the flame lowering to his skin, the growing warmth, but when he heard the faint sound of his body catching fire, Sam’s eyes flew open and he opened his mouth in a silent gasp.

“It’s okay baby, it’s fine,” he heard Dean say, but was too busy staring at his own fucking burning chest to look at the man, transfixed by the view.

Orange and blue flames engulfed the line of fuel drawn on his body, dancing enthusiastically. Sam managed to stay quiet for around half a second, after which the heat on his skin very rapidly became scorching and then, unfortunately, painful. Before he could’ve started cursing and screaming in pain, though, Dean was already using the wet towel to put out the fire, the cool fabric on his burning, throbbing chest feeling better than ice-cream on a hot summer day, Sam letting out a shuddering sigh of relief as his brother dabbed the towel against his skin.

“Sam? Are you alright? Did it hurt?” Dean asked, concern apparent in those searching eyes of his as he tucked a few strands of hair behind Sam’s ear.

Glancing at his chest, which didn’t have any burn marks and was only tingling a bit now, he cleared his throat. “It did, a bit, but…it wasn’t that bad,” he said with a tiny smile and a shrug.

“Then…round two?” His brother raised an eyebrow, and Sam’s smile widened into a grin as he nodded. “Turn on your stomach, baby,” Dean purred and the other complied, rolling onto his stomach and frowning a bit at how sensitive his chest was, but it wasn’t really that bad, plus the thrill and the adrenaline rush he got from his brother lighting his skin on fire, in more ways than one, was worth the slight discomfort.

“Hey, don’t get too distracted,” Sam joked as he felt a hand stroking his ass, a surprised moan slipping past his lips when that hand disappeared, only to come back and slap his ass.

“Why, you complainin’?” Dean laughed with a scoff, massaging the other’s ass, kneading it possessively until Sam was arching his back and pushing into the man’s touch.

“Not really…” he muttered softly, burying his face in the pillow and enjoying the attention his ass was getting, sighing in slight disappointment when Dean stopped. Then he felt a slight shiver creep across his body as the paintbrush was back and drawing a line along his spine, and Sam pressed his forehead against his arms and gripped the pillow, getting ready for the burn.

The cool fuel sitting on his spine had him in chills, the cold feeling very soon replaced by a burning fire, flames audibly rising to life on his back and dancing along his skin, drawing a hiss out of him. Sam inhaled deeply, focusing on the igniting feeling, the way his back turned from warm to hot in a matter of seconds, and then came the inevitable pain; but just before it could’ve become unbearable, Dean was draping the wet towel over him and putting out the fire, while whispering praises in the other’s ear.

“There,” his brother said as he gently, so very gently caressed Sam’s back with the towel. “How was that?”

Taking a moment to collect himself, he got on his elbows and turned to look at Dean, smiling at him when their eyes met. “Hot,” he said with a coy wink, the smile on his lips turning into a grin when Dean laughed. He then watched as the man tossed the towel back into the bucket before putting everything on the bedside table, and when Sam wanted to roll on his back, he got stopped by a firm hand on his biceps.

“Nope. You’re staying,” Dean stated and then proceeded to crawl on top of him, straddling his ass while keeping him pinned down with two hands on his shoulders.

Sam struggled passively, then stopped moving, relishing instead in the ticklish and feathery kisses he was receiving on his back, and stretching contently. Dean left a trail of them along his oversensitive spine, always so careful when he pressed his lips against the other’s skin, and after a while Sam couldn’t take it anymore.

“Enough foreplay,” he whined, rolling his hips seductively and trying to rub his ass against Dean’s obvious bulge in his underwear. “I want you…”

His brother’s kisses halted as he groaned, gripping Sam’s sides and grinding down against his ass, the low curses that slipped past the man’s lips and the amount of lust in his voice and in his every move making the younger one desperate. So he whimpered, softly a pitifully, and reached back to tug at Dean’s underwear, which thankfully got quickly discarded by his brother. Sam was pretty sure he saw the boxers flying across the room from the corner of his eye, and then he felt something warm and heavy against the cleft of his ass, dragging along it and lighting his whole body on fire without the need of flames.

“Sam, Sammy…” Dean had his wrists held down, gripping them tightly while he assaulted his neck with bites and kisses, the other unable to do anything but writhe wantonly under him, head hanging and giving more access to the skin on his neck. “Damn it, fuck,” he growled, the deep sound making Sam shiver and push back against the body on top of him, but then it was gone, the warmth enveloping him was gone and he made a pathetic sound.

“Dean? Dean, what—” he began, but then got suddenly yanked to his knees. Ass in the air and leaning on his elbows, Sam swallowed in anticipation as he listened to his brother doing something behind him, then gripped the sheets and let out a needy little moan when he felt the head of Dean’s cock press against his entrance.

He was ready, so goddamn ready for this, to have sex with his big brother, so he didn’t even think when Dean asked, “Want it, baby? Do you want me inside you?”

“Yes!” Sam whined, letting his head fall forward and silky hair shield his view as he raised his ass invitingly, the anticipation too much for him. “Yes please, I want it!”

The hard flesh was nudging against his hole, teasing him, and Dean was stroking his ass in circles. “I’m not going to give it to you,” he stated, but before Sam could’ve begun sobbing or something equally pathetic, he added, “you’ll just have to take it yourself.”

Knowing immediately what his brother meant, Sam made an annoyed sound but still reached back, his face flushed a deep red as he spread his cheeks, then took a deep breath before beginning to sink backwards. He bit down his lower lip, letting the pain there distract him from the one in his ass while he pushed himself back onto his brother’s thick, long cock, taking it in inch by inch.

“Jesus, Sam,” he heard Dean groan, knew it took him every shred of his willpower not to plow right into the other, to grab him and fuck him into the mattress, so as a payback, Sam made sure to clench and unclench his ass as he took his brother’s cock in deeper, successfully making Dean snap after only doing so a few times. “You little…” Dean’s voice trailed off into a growl as he took a hold of the other’s hips and slammed his cock forward and all the way in.

Sam cried out in a mix of pain, pleasure and surprise, then wouldn’t stop chanting his brother’s name, urging him to move already, which he did after a momentary pause. “Oh god, oh my god, Dean!” he moaned loudly, eyes squeezing shut and face twisting from the sensation of getting fucked, the drag of skin and the piercing, prodding ache in his ass nothing compared to the pleasure he was feeling—pleasure of the body and the soul.

“Sammy, yeah,” Dean cursed sweetly, holding his hips so hard, so strong one would think he wanted to squish them. “So good, holy fuck, baby!” He sped up, turning his pace from fast to merciless, pounding Sam’s ass so roughly and greedily, almost desperately, and the younger man could barely keep up with the brutal rhythm, his body rocking back and forth with each thrust.

He gasped and mewled, always needing more, and each time, Dean gave him more, driving his throbbing cock so far up Sam’s ass he sometimes felt like fainting from the incredible feeling of fullness. Each slam of his brother’s hips drew one lewd moan after another from him, the room hot and heavy with sex hanging in the air, the smells and sounds a hypnotic tune that had Sam’s own cock dripping with pre-come in minutes; though nothing could compare to what he felt when Dean managed to hit his prostate dead-on, like a jackhammer. Pulse skyrocketing, Sam screamed as bolts of fervid electricity, as shockwaves of pleasure spread through his body, shaking every fiber of it alive, and then Dean took a hold of his leaking erection and began tugging at it, pumping it with furious strokes, and Sam was lost, swimming in a disorienting haze of absolute ecstasy.

“Dean! Dean, o-oh fuck, Dean!” he cried, then mewled needily until he couldn’t take it anymore, until the feeling of his brother’s hand on and cock in him became too much, and then all of a sudden he was coming. Sam’s eyes flew open before closing again, his mouth hanging open and letting out a sort of half-moan, half-whimper as he came hard and onto the sheets, body trembling with slight spasms from such an intense orgasm.

He felt like collapsing, but Dean wasn’t done yet. His brother kept fucking him, however his thrusts soon became hurried and erratic, short snaps as he neared the edge, and Sam helped as much as he could, squeezing around his cock and milking him until he was coming as well. Just pleasing him like that made Sam want to blow his load again, Dean’s groans and low growls as he buried himself balls deep inside the other and came like that, filling him to the brim with his come a strangely satisfying feeling.

When both of them were sated, he did finally let his body fall on the bed, ignoring his sticky come under his belly as he lay there, because Dean was stretching out on top of him and cuddling him from above, and Sam refused to ruin this moment by moving. So he just stayed there, panting and concentrating on his brother’s heaving chest pressed against his back, his heavy breathing on his neck, and then smiled faintly as Dean began nuzzling him, affectionately rubbing his nose against the spot behind the other’s ear.

“What are you doing?” he asked after a while, after Dean wouldn’t stop acting like some puppy and licking him, kissing and rubbing his face against the back of Sam’s neck.

His brother hummed, taking Sam’s ear between his teeth and nibbling on it before answering. “What does it look like? I’m lovin’ you.”

Sam would have liked to believe he wasn’t blushing, but judging from the way heat spread through him, and Dean’s soft chuckle coming from behind him, he most definitely was. “That’s…unusual from you,” he muttered finally, trying to bite his lips to stop himself from grinning happily, then just gave up and laughed when his brother teasingly blew in his ear.

“You better enjoy it then,” Dean told him, planting a quick kiss on his shoulder before pulling his softening dick out of the other, the sudden emptiness making Sam crave to be filled again. Realizing how nasty that thought was, he buried his burning face in the pillow, so he didn’t notice what his brother was doing until he felt the blanket on him, followed by two eager arms pulling him to the side and into their protective embrace.

They were cuddling for real now, and Sam wasn’t sure if he should point it out and risk damaging Dean’s manliness. Who knew, maybe his brother would actually stop hugging him, and he really didn’t want that, so he decided to just heed the man’s advice and enjoy the moment, sighing pleasedly as Dean played with his hair.

“So…” he said after a while, as it was time to talk.

Before he could’ve said anything else, though, Dean was already talking, obviously not one for talks after sex. “No, Sam. Don’t you start this.”

“Start what?” he grumbled, turning around to face his brother now that the man has stopped touching him, and just as expected, Dean was frowning at him. “I just want to—”

“Talk, right?” Dean cut him off, and Sam was starting to get annoyed. “There’s nothing to talk about here, okay? You liked it. I did, too. So don’t you dare say some shit like ‘we shouldn’t have done it’ or start over-thinking everything, making things harder than they are.”

“Dean.” He sighed, gazing deep into his brother’s intent eyes. He loved the jerk, but sometimes he could be a handful. “I wanted to say that we should keep doing this, so how about you stop jumping to conclusions as soon as I open my mouth, hm?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows at the other, who gave him a blank look for a moment, before his eyes lit up.

“You’re more known for your deeply emotional speeches, so sorry for believing we were going to have a chick-flick moment,” Dean said with a now smug little grin, and Sam couldn’t have that.

“We did have one,” he mentioned, mirroring his brother’s grin. “Or did you forget how you snuggled close to me? How you cuddled me, Dean?”

His brother pulled an interesting face as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, before scoffing nonchalantly, apparently thinking he could fool Sam with his miserable macho act. “Yeah, well, we’re not doing that anymore, are we?”

“No,” he said, before scooting closer to Dean and giving him the infamous puppy eyes, “but could. It felt nice. Really nice…” Sam lowered his gaze, glancing down at his brother’s body, then brought his eyes back to the other’s and blinked at him.

He only had to wait a few seconds before Dean broke under his stare, though tried not to show his satisfaction too much as his brother wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into a warm hug, so close their faces were mere inches away from each other. “You will be the death of me, you giant kid,” Dean whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind the other’s ear and watching him, expressive eyes so full of love it made all of Sam’s mischief melt away.

“Hopefully not,” he said and pecked his brother’s nose, smiling gleefully when Dean closed his eyes and didn’t pull away. When he opened them again, though, Sam’s smile faltered. “By the way, sorry for pretending to be someone else. That was…kind of a twisted thing to do, I know.”

“Well,” Dean said, glancing between the two of them before flashing him a sort of reassuring smile, “it did get us here, so I’m not mad. Surprised to find out it was you all along, but not mad. Plus the things you’ve said…” His smile stretched into a grin. “I never would’ve thought that someone as prude as you could be so kinky.”

“Hey, I was never prude to begin with. You’re just too much of a playboy, using your downstairs brain way more often than the upstairs one.”

Dean snorted, about to roll his eyes, then stopped, frowned, and shrugged with an air of nonchalant acceptance. “Well, okay. Maybe you’re right,” he admitted, and Sam’s smile was instantly back.

“Of course I am,” he stated, before letting out a small, satisfied sigh, his body relaxing completely under the warmth of the blanket and Dean. He felt a sudden sleepiness weight on him, all unease and the worries of the world just gone, the only thing that mattered being him and Dean, like this. Together.

Noticing how Sam was struggling to keep his eyes open, his brother caressed his cheek and pressed a light kiss on his forehead. “Go to sleep,” he whispered, and Sam would’ve loved nothing more, so he nodded, letting himself drift off to sleep and mumbling something along the lines of “I love you.”

And he was pretty sure he fell asleep with a faint smile on his face, because before getting swallowed by darkness, he could’ve sworn he heard Dean repeat those same three words, heard them being whispered adoringly, and for the first time in a long time, Sam felt happy.

Safe, happy, warm and loved, all of which he’s finally managed to find in the only place he hasn’t looked yet—in Dean’s loving arms.

 


End file.
